Italian libretto by Gioachino Forzano
English version by Edoardo Petri
Music by Giacomo PucciniNotes

CHARACTERS

SISTER ANGELICA

THE PRINCESS, HER AUNT

THE ABBESS

THE SISTER MONITOR

THE MISTRESS OF THE NOVICES

SISTER GENEVIEVE

SISTER OSMINA

SISTER DOLCINA

THE SICK NURSE SISTER

THE QUESTUANTS

THE NOVICES

THE POSTULANTS

The action takes place in a convent in the latter part of the Seventeenth Century.

Interior of a convent. The little church and the cloister. In the background,
beyond the right hand arcade, the cemetery; beyond the left hand arcade,
the vegetable garden. In the middle of the stage, cypresses, a cross,
grass and flowers.
In rear and to the left, amongst the bushes, a spring, the spout of which
falls into an earthen pile.

The curtain rises. A clear spring sunset. A ray of sunshine strikes above
the spout on the fount.
The stage is empty. The sisters are in the church, singing.

Two postulants, late for prayers, cross the stage. They pause an
instant to listen to the chirping of the birds, coming from atop the cypresses,
then enter the church.

Sister Angelica, also late, enters from right and moves towards the church.
She opens the door, and makes the act of penance customary with late-comers
(which was not done by the two postulants) that is to say, she kneels down
and kisses the ground; then she closes the door.
The sisters come out of the church two by two.
The Abbess stops in front of the Cross. The sisters,
as they file past the Abbesss, bow reverently. The Abbesss blesses them,
then withdraws to the left.

The sisters remain together, forming, in small groups, a semi-circle.
The Monitor comes forward to the center.

(From rear, left, enter two Questuants leading a
little donkey loaded with all sorts of things.)

THE QUESTUANTS:

God bless the Virgin Mary!

ALL:

Amen!

THE QUESTUANTS:

Our quest has been successful

As all of you can see!

(The sisters crowd around the donkey; the Questuants
unload, and turn the gifts over to the sister housekeeper.)

A QUESTUANT:

Ten gallons of oil.

SISTER DOLCINA(who cannot resist her craving for good things):

Oh, fine!

OTHER QUESTUANT:

New filberts, fifty pounds.

A QUESTUANT:

A basket full of walnuts.

SISTER DOLCINA:

So good with salt and biscuits!

THE MONITOR(reproachfully):

Now, sister!

A QUESTUANT:

Lots of flour!

See here this fine pot-cheese

As fresh as morning dew

The best I can recall!

A small bag of new lentils,

Eggs, butter, and that's all!

A FEW SISTERS:

The quest has been successful

As all of us can see.

(One of the Questuants leads the donkey away.)

OTHER QUESTUANT:

For you who like good cheer....

SISTER DOLCINA(happy):

A whole branch of raspberries!

(Noticing the other sisters' teasing attitude):

Oh, sisters, do have some!

A SISTER(teasingly):

I'd be afraid to take one! Thank you, no!

SISTER DOLCINA:

No, no, do take some!

A FEW SISTERS:

Thanks, dear!

(They form a group to the right, picking berries
from the branch. There is subdued laughter.)

THE QUESTUANT:

Who is now at the convent? Do you know?

A FEW SISTERS:

—No one.

—Yes, no one.

—Tell us why.

THE QUESTUANT:

Outside the gate is standing

A gorgeous, magnificent coach.

SISTER ANGELICA(turning around as if seized by a sudden fear):

What is it, sister? Just what did you say?

You said a coach outside?....

Gorgeous?.... Gorgeous?.... Gorgeous?....

THE QUESTUANT:

Truly imposing.

It is waiting for someone

Who has come to the convent,

And maybe in a moment

The great bell will announce the visitor.

SISTER ANGELICA(with growing trepidation):

Oh, do tell me, my sister,

What did that coach look like?

Did you notice its blazon?

A blazon made of ivory?....

And inside all upholstered

With a rare azure damask

And embroidered with silver?....

THE QUESTUANT(somewhat confused):

I really couldn't tell, my sister;

All I know is I saw

A splendid coach.... my sister!

THE SISTERS(all watching Sister Angelica):

—She was as white as snow....

—And now is red as fire!....

—The poor darling!

—She is trembling!

—She hopes someone has come to inquire for her!

(The bell rings; the sisters rush in from all sides.)

THE SISTERS:

—The bell announcing strangers!

—A visitor is coming!

—For whom?

—For whom will it be?

—Maybe for me!

—For me!

—Perhaps my mother

Is bringing us a pair of dear, white doves!

—I wish it were my cousin from the mountains

Who brings us lavendar and other seeds!....

(Sister Genevieve draws near her companions and almost
interrupts their exclamations by pointing to Sister Angelica with a gesture
of pity.)

SISTER ANGELICA(with uplifted eyes, whispers):

Oh! Blessed Mother, read within my mind

And smile for me to Jesus pure and kind!

(The group of sisters silently approaches Sister
Angelica. —Sister Genevieve comes out of the group and addresses
Sister Angelica with exquisite sweetness.)

SISTER GENEVIEVE(to Angelica):

Oh! sister, kind and true!

We shall implore the Star of all the Stars

That the visit announced be for you.

SISTER ANGELICA(with great emotion):

Good sister, I thank you!

(From the left enters the Abbess who is to announce
for which sister is the visit. Expectancy is very high. In that moment
of silence, all the sisters offer their desire in sacrifice in favor of
the afflicted sister. Sister Angelica, her eyes still uplifted,
remains motionless, as if her whole being were being held in suspense.)

THE ABBESS(calling):

Sister Angelica!

(With a wave of her hand she directs the other
sisters to withdraw.)

THE SISTERS(as if breathing at last):

Ah!....

(The spout of the fount is now the color of purest gold.
The sisters fill a small watering pot with the golden water,
they move away in the direction of the cemetery and disappear.)

SISTER ANGELICA:

Mother, Mother, oh, tell me

Who came, Mother.... who came?

Seven years I've been waiting

Seven years, spent without a single word,

Or a letter, or news....

All have I offered to the Virgin

In fullest expiation....

THE ABBESS:

To the Virgin offer also

Your present exaltation!

(Sister Angelica, crushed, slowly bends her knees and
and concentrates in prayer. The vioces of the sisters are heard from the
cemetery.)

(The Abbess moves away towards left of stage and
disappears. Sister Angelica walks towards the reception arcade and anxiously
looks in the direction of the little door. A noise of keys. The door is opened
outwardly by the sister portress who remains standing alongside the door
in the shadow of the room. Then appears the Abbess who stops next to
the sister portress. The two sisters stand one on each side of the door, and,
between the two white figures, bending in a deferential attitude, passes a
dark figure severely composed in a deportment of aristocratic dignity.
Enter the Princess, who walks rather slowly, leaning on a thin ebony stick.
She stops and throws a glance at her niece, coldly and without a trace of
emotion. Sister Angelica, at sight of her aunt, is very much moved,
but controls herself because the figures of the Abbess and the sister
portress are seen at the door. The little door is closed again. Sister
Angelica, full of emotion, and almost staggering, moves toward her aunt,
but the old lady merely stretches out her left hand as if to indicate that
she will only consent to Sister Angelica kissing it. Sister Angelica
seizes the outstretched hand, raises it to her lips, and while the Princess
sits down, she falls upon her knees, unable to utter a single word. A moment
of silence. Sister Angelica, with tears streaming down her cheeks,
imploringly keeps her eyes upon her aunt's face. But the old lady
ostentatiously stares straight ahead.)

THE PRINCESS:

Your father, the all powerful, Prince Gualtiero,

And your beloved mother, Princess Clara,

Upon their death

Twenty years ago....

(The old lady stops to cross herself):

Entrusted to my care their little children

Together with their ample patrimony:

I was to subdivide it

With wisdom and all fairness

In case I should have deemed it opportune.

This I have done. Here is the document.

You may have it, examine and sign it.

SISTER ANGELICA:

After seven years.... I am before you

May this blessed ground touch your heart, my aunt....

This place ought to entrance

Your clemency and pity....

THE PRINCESS:

And also your penance.

I must, however, tell you now the reason

That made imperative this subdivision;

Your little sister,

Anna Viola,

Will soon be married.

SISTER ANGELICA:

Married?....

Married, my little

Anna Viola?

My darling little sister

Still so young!

(She stops and thinks a moment):

Why so young?.... 'tis seven years!....

Seven years have gone by!

Oh! sister blond and fair, thou wilt be married,

My darling little pet, may thou be happy!

Who is the bridegroom?

THE PRINCESS:

A man who has forgiven the black stain

Cast upon our unblemished blazon.

SISTER ANGELICA:

Oh, sister of my mother

You are so hard and merciless.

THE PRINCESS:

How dare you speak that way?

You call me hard? ....You dare call me merciless?

Your mother you would sway

Almost against your aunt?....

Very often at night

In our chapel at home

I kneel in prayer....

In the stillness of that religious solitude

I feel my spirit sallying forth from me

To encounter the spirit of your mother!

In ethereal and lofty reverie!

'Tis sad and painful

To hear the dead's long sighs when they bemoan!

When the mystical vision fades away

Of you remains in me one thought alone:

For her sin she must pay!....

Now offer to the Virgin

My sternest justice!

SISTER ANGELICA:

All I have offered her.... yes.... all I had!

But there's an offer I can never make!

To that Mother, the sweetest of all Mothers

I cannot offer to forget.... my son.

My son!.... my darling son!

The sweet, dear baby torn away from me

Whom I have seen and kissed but once!

My darling child! My darling child so distant!

This is the word expected

By me for seven years!

Do speak to me of him!

Tell me what he looks like!

Hasn't he the sweetest face?

Are not his eyes like stars?

Do speak to me of him

Of my son.... of my son!

(A pause. The old lady does not answer while gazing at
the distracted mother):

Why don't you speak?

Why don't you speak?

. . . . . . . .

Another instant of this gruesome silence

And for all time you'll damn your cruel soul!

The Virgin is there listening. She will judge!

THE PRINCESS:

'Tis now two years

The child was stricken

By fatal sickness....

No care was spared to save his life.

SISTER ANGELICA:

He's dead?

(The aunt silently bends her head):

Ah!

(Sister Angelica, with a heartbreaking cry, drops to the
ground face downwards. Her aunt gets up to aid her, thinking she has fainted;
but, hearing Sister Angelica's sobs, she controls her movement of pity.
Standing up, she turns towards a sacred image on the wall to her right and,
leaning with both hands on the ebony stick, with bent head, she
prays in silence. Sister Angelica's sobs continue, stifled and heartrending.
Darkness now begins to pervade the entire scene. The door opens.
Sister Angelica raises herself from the ground, but remains kneeling with
both hands covering her face.
The portress enters with a small light which she places on the little table.
The Princess speaks to the portress, who leaves only to return immediately
with the Abbess carrying in her hand a tablet, and ink-well and a quill.
Sister Angelica hears the sisters approaching, turns around and understands.
In silence, she drags herself up to the table and with trembling hand
affixes her signature to the parchment. Then she moves away, and, again,
she covers her face with both hands. The two sisters leave. The
Princess takes the parchment, then moves towards her niece; but, as she
draws near, Sister Angelica shrinks away from her with a slight movement of
her whole body. Then the Princess proceeds towards the door, strikes it with
her cane, the portress opens, takes up the lantern and shows the Princess
her way out. The Princess follows her. From the threshold she again glances
back to her niece. She goes out and disappears. The door is again closed.
Night has fallen. In the cemetery the sisters are lighting the small lanterns
on the various tombstones.)

(The lanterns are all lighted in the cemetery;
the cloister is now shrouded in almost complete darkness.
The sisters come out of the graveyard two by two and draw near
Sister Angelica, now absorbed in ecstasy. The group of the sisters draws
closer, in silence. In the penumbra it seems as if the white-clad shadows
scarcely touch the ground as they walk along.)

THE SISTERS:

Your wish will be granted, dear sister,

The Virgin has heard your heart's prayer.

Your wish will be granted, dear sister,

The Virgin takes you in her care!

(Sister Angelica rises as if under the spell of a
mystic exaltation.)

SISTER ANGELICA:

Her blessing hath come down from Heaven

And pours in my soul new delight,

Resplendent, so brilliant, so bright!

I see now, dear sisters, my goal

And filled with great joy is my soul!

Sing, sisters, the angels are singing....

Our souls to the Virgin are clinging!

ALL:

Our souls to the Virgin are clinging!

(From back stage, to the right, is heard the rattle.
The sisters move in the direction of the arcade and the white theory
vanishes into the cells.)

ANGELICA'S VOICE:

Her blessing hath come down from Heaven!

(The cloister is now submerged in complete darkness.
Upon the little church, gradually, is lighted a shining cupola of stars.
The moon rises above the cypresses——
A cell-door opens. Sister Angelica appears.)

SISTER ANGELICA(carries in her hand an earthen jar which she puts down at the foot of a
cypress; she makes a small bunch of brambles and branches, heaps up a few
stones in the fashion of andirons and places the bunch upon them.
She goes to the fount and fills the jar with water.
She lights the fire with a piece of flint and puts the jar on the fire.
Then she walks towards the shrubbery):

Oh, friendly flowers, you are fair compensation

For all the sorrows flung on me by love!

(As if calling by name the flowers and herbs she is picking):

Come, oleander.

Where art thou, darkest laurel?....

Beautiful nightshade, come!....

. . . . . . . .

'Tis now thy turn, oh powerful, bitter hemlock!

Thou sayest: “Forget me not!”

How e'er could I? Come, enough have I fought!

(Turning around and pressing the flowers to her breast):

And you be blessed all, oh fragrant flowers,

You who will quench the pain of my last hours!

(She takes a handful of the herbs and flowers she has
picked and throws them into the boiling water, looks a while at the
poison being formed, takes the jar and places it at the foot of the cross;
then turns to the right, toward the cell):

My dear sisters, farewell, farewell, farewell!

I am leaving for ever.

'Tis my son who is calling!

Amongst the flickering stars

I saw his smile so dear!

He said from Heaven: “Mother, come, come here!”

Farewell! farewell!

Farewell, dear church! Wherein so much I prayed!

Friendly shelter for my sobs and prayers.

From Heaven did descend the Virgin's blessing!

I die for him and rush into his arms!

(In an impulse of irresistible exaltation she embraces
and kisses the cross, then, bending rapidly, she picks up the jar, turns
towards the church and with her eyes fixed in the heavens, drinks the poison.
Then she leans against a cypress and, pressing her chest with her left hand
and slowly dropping her right arm, she lets the jar fall to the ground.

The act of suicide she has committed seems to free
Sister Angelica from the exaltation that had seized her, bringing her back
to reality. A brief pause. Her face, so serene and smiling before, now takes
an expression of intense anguish, as if a sudden and terrible revelation
had come upon her.)

(Clouds now cover the moon and the stars; the stage is
very dark. A desperate cry is heard.)

(She seems to hear the voice of angels imploring for her,
the Mother of all Mothers.)

Oh! Madonna, Madonna!

'Twas the love of my child

THE ANGELS

That made me lose my reason.

Don't let me die, Madonna, in disgrace!

O gloriosa Virginum

Sublimis inter sidera,

Give me a sign of the mercy!

Qui te creavit, parvulum

Give me a sign of the mercy!

Lacente nutris ubere.

Quod Heva tristis abstulit

Oh, Madonna, save me!

Tu reddis almo germine:

'Tis a mother that prays thee!

Intrent ut astra flebiles,

'Tis a mother imploring....

Cœli recludis cardines.

Oh, Madonna, save me!

(Sister Angelica sees the miracle taking place.
The little church suddenly becomes replendant with mystic light. The
door opens and the Queen of comfort appears, solemn, with a sweet expression
on her face and, in front of her, a blond child, all white, is seen.)

SISTER ANGELICA:

Ah!

(The Virgin gently, with the kindest of gestures, pushes
the child towards the dying mother....)